How to Rise Against
by bluephoenixsong
Summary: With the death of his wife still fresh in his mind, Horatio Caine makes a decision that will change his Miami team forever. Rated T for harsh language, violence, and some suggestive material.
1. Prologue

**A few weeks ago someone made a request for me to write a Horatio/Marisol story. I've kind of put it off, since I really didn't even have the slightest fathom of an idea for a plotline. Then I decided to take a short story that I wrote for my creative writing class and make a few adaptations. It's a little different, and maybe a bit farfetched too, but it kind of worked out with Horatio and Marisol. This is a shorter story, but it's longer then the original one I submitted for class. It took a little while and a bit of tweaking (not to mention hours of "research"- aka watching season four of Miami to make sure I had all the Marisol facts right), but I think it came together nicely. This is another case where I used part of the name of a band as the title.**

**This story I kept pretty clean, so I'm giving it a T+ (for older readers) rating for now. If anyone thinks I should change it to M just send me a message.**

**This story does not coincide with any of my other stories.**

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><p>How to Rise Against<p>

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><p>Prologue: How to Live<p>

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><p>He knelt on the sidewalk, his dying wife in his arms. She looked up at him with her warm brown eyes. She reached up with a shaking hand and gently stroked his cheek, her blood smearing onto his cheek. Tears welled in his eyes as acceptance of what was going to happen settled in his bones.<p>

"Mari," he whispered, gently stroking her hair, "Please hold on, sweetheart."

"I can't, Horatio," she whispered, blood dribbling down her chin.

"I'm sorry, Marisol," he whispered as the tears finally began to fall.

"Not as sorry as I am," she barely whispered in her weak voice.


	2. Chapter 1

Chapter One: How to Survive Survivor's Guilt

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><p>Horatio walked into the cathedral. He stopped and dipped his fingers into the holy water. He touched his index and middle finger to his forehead, sternum, and both shoulders, just as his mother had taught him as a child. He walked towards the altar, stopping before the mass of candles burning brightly. He flicked open his Florida State Police Zippo lighter and lit another one. He stood there and watched it flicker against the slight breeze as the confessional door opened and closed. He turned and entered the small room as the pervious occupant began his Hail Mary's. He sat on the uncomfortable bench and waited. The window slid open and he looked at the mesh that divided him and the Priest. He turned his head back, not wanting him to see he was crying.<p>

"Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned," he recited, just as he always did.

"What brings you to me, son?" the Cardinal asked.

"I have committed the greatest sin there is," Horatio whispered. "I have taken the life of another."

"Horatio," the Cardinal said, "its part of your job."

"No, it wasn't a criminal," Horatio said in his pained voice.

The Cardinal sighed and rested his head against the back of his confessional.

"Horatio, we've been over this," he quietly said. "It wasn't you who killed Marisol."

"But it might as well have been me," Horatio said as the painful tears welled in his eyes. "They were after me. I was the one green lighted. But they killed Marisol instead."

"Which instead has caused you a greater pain," the Cardinal said. "But it still was not you who pulled the trigger. The Mala Noche killed Marisol."

"But it was me they were after," Horatio said, his voice cracking from emotion.

"Horatio, you can come in here every week for the rest of your life and confess to the murder of your wife, but it won't ever bring her back."

"But I was the cause of her murder. I'm more to blame then anyone."

The Cardinal sighed again, wishing he could figure out a way to ease the officer's pain.

"What was Marisol's favorite kind of flower?" he asked.

"Marigolds," Horatio whispered in response.

"Then I want you to plant eight marigold plants outside your house. And everyday when you care for these plants I want you to imagine that you're caring for your wife. That her spirit resides within these flowers. That she will flourish once again, because you're caring for her."

Horatio's hands shook. He looked down at the picture he held between his fingers. The tears finally rolled down his cheeks.

"How will that help with the pain?" he whispered.

"Because, it will give you something to care about again," the Cardinal responded. "It will give you something to love again, because that's what you need. You need something to care about again. You've allowed yourself to be tortured by Marisol's death for three years now. It's time you moved on. Having something to care for will be the first step to recovering."

Horatio sniffed and wiped the tears from his face with the back of his hand.

"It won't bring her back," he whispered.

"No, it won't," the Cardinal responded, "but it will give you the chance to heal."

* * *

><p>Horatio walked through the crime lab, trying to keep his mind off his confessional from the day before. He had done as the Cardinal said and bought eight marigold bushes and planted them outside, by his back porch. His back ached as a result and his knees were sore, but he had to admit, he felt better, if only a little.<p>

He entered the fingerprint lab where Ryan Wolfe was diligently working hard.

"How's it going, Ryan?" Horatio inquired.

"Not too bad," Ryan said as he peeled the lift tape off a piece of broken glass. "Did you enjoy your day off, boss?"

"Yeah, I guess," Horatio quietly replied.

"What did you do?"

"Went to chapel and then planted some flowers."

"Flowers? You, Horatio Caine planted flowers?" Ryan asked, slightly amused. His phone buzzed and he tapped the screen. He read the message printed there and then closed it. He looked at the date as sorrow filled his heart. He looked back at his boss with a sad expression.

"I'm sorry, Horatio," Ryan whispered. "I didn't realize what the date was."

"It's ok," Horatio quietly said. "I didn't realize you'd remembered the day."

"Eric's one of my closest friends and you're my boss," Ryan responded. "I think it would be hard to forget that day."

"Did Eric not call you yesterday?" Horatio inquired.

"No, he has the last two years but he didn't this year," Ryan said as he stepped over to a microscope. He set a sample slide on the platform but didn't look down the scope. "I'm sorry, H," he quietly said. "I know you've been through a lot of pain with her death."

"It's alright," Horatio quietly replied. "It wasn't your fault."

"And it isn't your fault either," Ryan reassuringly said. "I know you've been beating yourself up about this for the last three years. It's not good for you."

"I know," Horatio whispered, "It's just hard to accept."

His phone rang and he looked to see Frank calling him.

"Excuse me, Mr. Wolfe," he said, stepping away.

Ryan nodded his head and resumed his work.

"What's up, Frank?" Horatio said as he answered his phone.

"We got a massive explosion at a warehouse," Frank's voice explained in his ear. "Down by the shipping district."

"Alright, I'll grab someone and come check it out," Horatio said just before he hung up. He looked at his phone, the date printed in the top left corner. He sighed. He knew he needed to move on, but he just wanted to go back and do it all over again.

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><p>"No survivors," Frank explained as Horatio and Calleigh followed him through the charred building. "Bomb squad thinks the blast started somewhere in the back and worked it's way forward. Burned everything in it's path, including a few people."<p>

They walked past blown out windows and walls dripping with water from the fire department. Charred bodies were scattered in different rooms, only a few having fallen victim to the blast. In the very back of the small building was a massive black blast pattern on the wall.

"Yes, I would say this is where the bomb was," Horatio said as he turned on his flashlight and began examining it.

"Must have been some ammo to send a building up in flames," Calleigh said as she began taking pictures. "Do you think they used an accelerant, Horatio?"

"Most likely," Horatio responded as he continued walking around the room. "Something that burned hot and fast and took to the dry wood paneling."

"Another reason never to use paneling when decorating," Calleigh light heartedly said.

Horatio chuckled lightly but stopped when he heard something. He looked through an open door and watched someone dressed in dark clothing run down a hall.

"Hey!" Horatio yelled at the person. He took off running after him, yelling for the person to stop.

He broke through a door and outside into the bright sun. He caught glimpse of someone ducking into a car and tires squealed as they drove away. He drew his gun, but when she turned and looked at him, Horatio froze.

Short dark hair whipped around her face as she sped off. He stood there motionless, unable to form any reasonable thought. She was too far away before he could make any reasonable thought. He lowered his weapon, his heart hammering in his chest. Frank and Calleigh came running out to him, flanking him on either side with their weapons drawn.

"Where did they go?" Frank asked, scanning the immediate area with his glock.

"She got away," Horatio quietly said.

"Why didn't you shoot?" Frank asked him as he begrudgingly placed his weapon back into its holster.

"I couldn't," Horatio replied.

"Well why the hell not?" Frank snapped.

"Because she looked just like Marisol," Horatio nearly whispered.

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><p>"So you let a suspect get away because she looked like your dead wife?" Stetler asked as he paced around Horatio's office.<p>

"I was shocked," Horatio argued. "I know it wasn't her but the resemblance was too canning. I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger."

"So you let her get away?" Stetler asked again.

"Rick, I know I screwed up, but I can't change it now!" Horatio snapped at him.

"Did you at least get a license plate or model?"

Horatio sighed and turned away from him again. "No, I didn't," he quietly responded.

"Caine, I'm starting to question your abilities," Stetler said. "You've let the death of your wife affect your work far too much."

"It's not like I'm trying to do this to myself," Horatio said as he spun and stared him down. "I know my quality of work hasn't always been the greatest since Marisol died, but I can't help it. I have _tried_ to put this past me, but it's hard, Rick. I have been giving myself a hundred-ten percent on every case since she died, because I need something else to live for."

Stetler shook his head and turned to leave.

"Step it up, Caine, or this will be your last case," he said as he left Horatio's office.

Horatio sighed and sat at his desk. He watched the people he had come to know and love as family. He opened a drawer and pulled out the business card. He read over the name and number and played the scenario in his head again and again, trying to figure out what he would actually do. He fiddled with the small piece of paper, trying to will himself to make a decision.

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><p>Horatio hung up the phone. The call hadn't been as difficult as he thought it would be. The aftermath was going to be the hardest.<p>

He wandered up to the Human Resources Office. It took only seconds to fill out the paperwork and he was back in his lab once again. He walked through the glass corridor. He looked at everyone he had known for so long, his heart starting to hurt. He entered his office and looked around. He finally decided and sat at his desk. He fidgeted with everything on it, reorganizing it in a more sensible manner.

Ryan walked up to the door. He could tell his boss was stressed, but he didn't know why. He lightly knocked on the doorframe and Horatio looked up at him.

"Ryan," he quietly said, "Come on. Is there something you need to talk about?"

"Yeah, H," Ryan quietly responded. He shut the door and sat at the chair across from Horatio's desk.

"Something bothering you, Ryan?" Horatio inquired as he slipped the business card back into a drawer.

"Yeah," Ryan nearly whispered.

"What's on your mind? You know you can tell me anything."

Ryan sighed and leaned forward onto his elbows.

"You've been distant," he quietly started. "Ever since we had that cross jurisdiction case with the CIA last month you've had the same distant mood about you. It's like you don't want to get too close to anyone anymore. I'm worried about you, Horatio. It's as if you're no longer happy with your work. You're more stressed about cases, you miss vital details, you don't react as quickly as you should, and it's worrying me."

Ryan looked at him with sadness in his hazel eyes.

"H, what's wrong?" he whispered.

Horatio sighed and leaned forward, his elbows resting on the desk and his chin against his knuckles.

"I didn't think I was being that obvious," he quietly said.

"Maybe not to everyone, but Eric and I could tell," Ryan responded.

Horatio looked up at him and then back down at his desk.

"I don't know what to tell you, Ryan," he nearly whispered.

"Will you tell me the truth?" Ryan said, "Because that's really what I need to hear right now."

Horatio looked at him, torment in his deep blue eyes. He didn't want to speak the truth, though everyone would know sooner or later. But it felt so permit, just saying the words stuck to his tongue.

"You're leaving Miami Dade," Ryan whispered. "You're leaving the Crime Lab. Aren't you?"

Pain struck at his heart at the sound of Ryan's words. He didn't think hearing it would be so awful.

"Yes," he whispered, "I'm leaving the Miami Dade Crime Lab. In two weeks I start a new job at the CIA as a forensic and explosives expert."

Pain filled Ryan's eyes. The young man looked close to tears.

"Please don't, H," he whispered. "Please don't leave us. We need you."

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Horatio quietly responded. "There's nothing left for me here."

"But we need you," Ryan continued to argue in his pained voice. "You're the best there is. You're our boss, our Lieutenant, our mentor. Please don't leave us, Horatio."

"I'm sorry, Ryan," Horatio said again, standing from his chair. "I can't work here any longer. I can't walk in and pass the spot where my wife died every morning. I can't continue to let her ghost play in my head and affect my work."

Ryan looked at him with an angry expression. "But how will we ever beat them?"

"Ryan, this isn't about the Mala Noche," Horatio softly said.

"Yes it is," Ryan nearly hissed. "You think the CIA will defeat them before Miami Dade ever will."

"No, Ryan, I don't think that."

"Then prove it," Ryan whispered in an angry tone.

Horatio stood there silently, stunned with the doorknob in his hand. Ryan glared at him, his eyes still burning with anger and sorrow.

"You can't, can you?" Ryan whispered as he stormed out the door.

Horatio watched him walk away, knowing his life had just gotten a lot more complicated.


	3. Chapter 2

Chapter Two: How to Turn Your Back on the Ones You Loved

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><p>There had been no party, no celebration, and certainly no sorrow filled good-byes. It seemed Horatio had left the Crime Lab without the slightest indication of his decision. The only thing he had done in his last two weeks there was clean out his office and locker, making room for the new Lieutenant.<p>

He now followed Agent Robert Thompson through the Central Intelligence Agency office. He showed Horatio where most of the work was conducted and the garage where Horatio would be able to find most of the tools he would need for explosives and weapons. They took a quick tour through the labs that would become like a second home for Horatio; Agent Thompson's words, not his own. Horatio felt nothing towards all of it, but he hadn't felt much of anything for most of the last three years.

They stopped at a desk surrounded by four cubical walls. They walked through the open door design in the fourth wall and Horatio stared at the small, cheap desk.

"This is where you'll store your personal office supplies and your computer will be located." Thompson explained, "You're permitted to bring in personal effects, but nothing that will be considered a distraction to others."

Horatio looked around the drab gray walls and the pine colored desk. He didn't see how anyone would notice if he went crazy with decorating his cubical, not that he would.

"Now, if you'll follow me, we have a meeting that's starting in five minutes," Thompson said as he briskly walked out of the small cubical. "It might not be what you're used to, but here at the CIA we don't waste time getting involved."

"Oh believe me, Agent Thompson," Horatio said, "We did everything but wait around at Miami Dade."

Thompson gave him a quick and impersonal smile as they continued on. "I'm sure you didn't," he said as he opened a door.

They walked into a conference room and Agent Thompson took his place at the head of the table. Not really sure where to sit, but not wanting to seem as if he wasn't confident, Horatio picked a seat in the middle of the long table between two other agents.

"Good morning everyone," Thompson began, "I'd like to start with welcoming our newest agent, Horatio Caine. He'll be working with forensics on explosives and weaponry."

Everyone looked to where Horatio was sitting. He gave a small smile but it quickly faded as Thompson continued on.

"I'll try to get you quickly caught up, Caine," he said. "We've been tracking what we thought was a suicide bomber, but it seems we might be wrong."

"How many cases?" Horatio inquired as he began jotting down notes on the legal pad in front of him.

"Three so far," Thompson replied.

"Well there you go," Horatio dryly said, "Can't be a suicide bomber. It's impossible for someone to die three times."

A light laughter circled around the room, as Agent Thompson seemed to flush in color.

"What I meant was we thought it was a terrorist suicide bomber group."

"Oh, well that makes more sense," Horatio responded. He wrote something down in his own personal shorthand that only he was able to decipher.

"_Thompson- incompetent, possibly hard to work with/for."_

"As I was saying," Thompson continued on, "We thought it was a suicide bomber group, but we may be wrong. Recent evidence from the last case revealed it may be one individual acting alone."

"What kind of evidence?" Horatio asked, not caring to wait his turn.

"Fingerprints," Thompson said, his irritation with Horatio evident. "Turns out fragment recovered from all three bombs had the same latent fingerprint impression in a piece of electric tape."

Horatio shot him a look. "You're just now figuring this out?"

"Caine, if you're going to start acting insubordinate already then we may have to reconsider your employment," Thompson snapped.

Horatio shook his head and leaned back in his chair. "With all due respect, Agent Thompson," he calmly said, "I just found it farfetched that you hadn't realized the fingerprints from all three cases matched. I understand if it was only one case, but I do believe if the proper investigation had been performed during the second case the latent fingerprints should have been matched then." He leaned forward, locking gazes with Thompson. "And, as a former supervisor, I find it extremely rude and demeaning to call out a new employee at his first staff meeting, when there's the possibility he still doesn't understand how your facility works."

Thompson stared him down, the anger written all over his red face. "Very well," he quietly muttered. "Why don't you go with Agent Stevenson to the forensics' lab and get more acquainted with the evidence?"

The female agent sitting next to Horatio rose. She smiled at him and Horatio returned it as he stood and grabbed the legal pad off the table.

"Caine," Thompson called after him, "The legal pads stay here."

"Well where am I supposed to keep all my notes?" Horatio inquired, "My new boss didn't tell me I would be needing one today."

He turned and followed the woman with brown curly hair from the room, smirking to himself. They followed a path through the cubical maze and into a stairwell. She stopped and turned to face him.

"Wow," she said with a bright smile, "You must have quite the pair to get ballsy with the boss on your first day."

Horatio couldn't help but return the smile and chuckle lightly. "Yes, well my old team always said I was rather blunt when it came to these kinds of things."

"You mean the total lack of scientific protocol?" Stevenson asked.

Horatio slowly nodded his head. "Well, I wasn't going to say that but…"

"But I already did, so it's safe to go ahead."

Horatio chuckled and again and smiled at her. "Your lab seems to be lacking in scientific protocol," he shyly said.

Stevenson laughed and shook her head. "I will admit, we do. I'm supposed to be the head of the department, but Thompson likes things done his way, so sometimes it gets hard." She smiled at him again and held out her hand. "Agent Lisa Stevenson, forensic analysis and processing."

Horatio grasped her hand and returned the smile. "Lieuten- I mean, well I guess, Agent Horatio Caine, explosives and weaponry."

"Explosive expert," Lisa said as they descended the stairs. "Nice, I like it. Sounds sexy." She winked at him as she opened the door and led him once again into the forensic lab.

Horatio smiled and felt a slight blush form on his cheeks as he followed her into the familiar sounds of scientists working to find the truth.

* * *

><p>Horatio looked at the fingerprint covered with superglue fumes under the high intensity microscope. He looked at ridges and furrows, trying to make a visible match.<p>

"Where's the one from the third case?" he inquired as he began examining the second sample.

"It hasn't arrived yet," Lisa said as she began shuffling through case files and evidence.

Horatio looked at her confused. "What do you mean? I thought you said you had three cases."

"We do, but we didn't realize we had three until a different lab scanned the print into AFIS and got a hit from our database," she explained. "They're coming over right now, but I guess the Lieutenant got tied up in a different case. I guess it's been rather crazy over there. The current Lieutenant was just promoted this morning. God knows why they would wait two weeks if they new the old Lieutenant had put in his two week notice." Her phone beeped and she looked at the screen. "And that's security telling me they're on their way down the elevator now. Would you like to join me to meet them?"

"If you don't mind I think I'd rather stay here and continue getting familiar with the cases," Horatio said, peering down the scope again.

"Quite alright," Lisa said with a smile he couldn't see. "I understand you're trying to get caught up with two years worth of work. I'll be right back."

"Take your time," Horatio muttered as he continued examining the fingerprints.

He stared into the microscope, comparing ridge detail and what little tool marks he could see. He heard footsteps approach, but didn't bother to look up from his work.

"Agent Caine," Lisa's voice sounded, "I'd like to introduce you to Officer Duquesne and Lieutenant Wolfe from the Miami Dade Crime Lab."

Horatio straightened up and looked towards the door. Standing there with Lisa were Ryan and Calleigh, evidence boxes in hand. He was shocked to see them, yet everything Lisa had said about the other lab suddenly made sense. How he hadn't realized who she was talking about was beyond him.

Ryan and Calleigh walked over to the lab table and set down their boxes. They each looked at him apprehensively, unsure of what to do. Horatio stepped forward and extended his hand. He shook each of their hands, still trying to process what Lisa had said.

"Ryan, Calleigh," he quietly said, "It's good to see you again."

"How have you been, Horatio?" Calleigh asked in her soft voice.

"Already had my new boss threaten to fire me this morning," Horatio replied with a small smile.

Calleigh laughed softly. "Why does that not surprise me?"

He looked at Ryan, unsure of what to think about the younger man.

"Lieutenant Wolfe," he quietly said.

Ryan nodded his head once. "Yeah, the Chief asked me this morning."

"And you accepted?" Horatio said in a hesitant voice.

"Yes, because I wanted to continue to fight this battle we started."

Horatio slowly nodded his head. "I see," he whispered.

Lisa looked from Horatio to Ryan and back to Horatio. "Caine, do you know these two?"

"I was the old Lieutenant at the MDPD Crime Lab," he quietly said, still unable to break his gaze from Ryan's.

Lisa nodded her head in acknowledgement. "Alright, well I guess we should take a look at the evidence you brought over, Lieutenant Wolfe," she said, walking over to the sealed boxes Ryan and Calleigh had been carrying.

"Yeah," Ryan quietly said, his eyes still peering into Horatio's and his face set in an unwavering expression. "We better get started before someone else looses their life."

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><p>"So I'm going to take a guess the tape was cut with just about any pair of scissors you could find in the store," Calleigh said as she examined the electric tape from all three cases under the microscope.<p>

"Well that doesn't really help," Lisa said. "I was hoping this guy had ripped it with his teeth or something more unique."

"Nope, sorry," Calleigh said. "If it had been ripped the edge would be jagged, not smooth and even like it is."

Ryan looked down at the pictures of the fingerprints on the tape.

"Agent Stevenson," he said, "Do you have a roll of electric tape somewhere?"

"Yeah," Lisa responded, walking over to a cabinet.

"What are you thinking, Ryan?" Horatio inquired, still unable to call him Lieutenant.

"I'm thinking about what we've got in our report and the evidence at hand," Ryan explained as he cut two three inch strips of tape. He removed his glove and pressed his left index finger to the adhesive. He looked it over and then turned to Lisa. "Can I borrow your hand?"

Lisa looked at him a little confused, but smiling nonetheless. "Sure, can I ask why though?"

"I need your finger," Ryan said. He carefully pressed Lisa's finger into the adhesive and then looked at the two pieces. "Just as I thought."

"What's that?" Lisa inquired.

"I'm thinking the guy you're looking for isn't a guy at all," Ryan said, placing the pieces of tape on the microscope.

"What do you mean?"

"I mean look at my fingerprint compared to yours." Ryan explained, "See how yours is smaller then mine? The fingerprints found on the tape are rather small, even for a partial."

"So you're thinking our bomber is a woman?" Lisa asked.

"Yeah, it would make sense with what's in our report, too," Ryan said, picking up the MDPD case file. "According to this, Lieutenant Caine saw a female dressed in dark clothing fleeing the scene."

Lisa looked at Horatio questionably. "Is this true, Caine?" she asked.

Horatio nodded his head. "Yeah, I heard her and then followed her outside, but she got away."

"Because someone didn't have the balls to shoot at her car," Ryan angrily muttered.

Horatio shot him an angry look. "I'm sorry, Ryan," he snapped. "I'm sorry that you're still upset that I left the Crime Lab, but it was my time, ok?"

"You left us in the middle of a battle," Ryan nearly hissed. "You left us with an open case that I had to take over, that I hardly knew anything of. I think I have a right to be angry with you."

"But I'm here now," Horatio said. "I'm working with you to close this case now."

"But with a different badge," Ryan muttered under his breath.

"Ok, well let's get through reviewing all this evidence and then we'll go out to lunch, my treat," Lisa interjected, trying to lighten the mood.

Horatio and Ryan locked eyes, the anger firing between them like electricity. Their gaze broke as they turned and continued with their work.

* * *

><p>"You think our bomber is a woman?" Thompson asked as he listened to Lisa discuss the evidence later that day.<p>

"Yes, what we've collected and reviewed with Miami Dade suggests it's a woman," Lisa explained.

"That can't be possible," Thompson said, blowing her off.

"Why? Because she's a woman and her place should be in the kitchen?" Lisa snapped.

"Your words, not mine," Thompson repeated as he began moving around his office.

"I think it's entirely possible the bomber is a woman," Ryan interjected.

Thompson shot him a look. "Well I didn't ask for the local police's opinion," he retorted.

"Bombing wouldn't be that far fetched for a woman," Ryan continued. "Most women murderers use distant techniques. They're more likely to shoot someone or commit a hit and run. Men are more likely to commit hands on murders; strangulations, beatings, suffocations."

"But how many women suicide bombers have you read about?" Thompson retorted.

"None, but that could be because they're all dead," Ryan responded.

"Lieutenant Wolfe," Thompson hissed, "I don't need your smart-alecky ways around here. I have enough problems with my own employees."

"He means me," Horatio whispered to Calleigh. She snickered and tried to keep a straight face.

"Until you can provide me with hard evidence that this bomber is indeed female, then we will continue to search for a male suspect."

Lisa scoffed and turned to leave the room. Horatio, Calleigh, and Ryan followed her.

"I can't believe him!" Lisa fumed as they rode the elevator back to the forensics lab. "He's so closed minded! This is way he won't promote me!"

Horatio gently touched her shoulder. "Don't fret," he whispered, "he'll come around."

They walked back into the lab and began packing up the evidence.

"Would you mind if we kept this evidence here?" Lisa asked Ryan. "You know, just so it's easier for us to refer back to."

"Um, yeah, I guess so," Ryan quietly said. "I'm just a little leery because it's still an open investigation."

"Well why don't we just make copies of your evidence logs, reports, and lab results for us and you can take the rest back," Lisa said. "Come on, we'll go do that right now."

"Alright," Ryan said, following her from the room.

Horatio sighed and started packing the evidence on the table back into the CIA evidence box. Calleigh stood next to him and leaned into him. She smiled up at him and he couldn't help but smile back.

"How's it really going?" she whispered to him.

Horatio looked at her and then back at the box he was packing.

"I don't know," he whispered. "I already miss everyone from the Crime Lab."

"It's not too late to go back."

"But what will happen to Ryan? I can't take an opportunity like this away from him."

"Maybe they'll make you Sergeant," Calleigh suggested.

"I don't think so," Horatio quietly responded. "I think they would make me low man on the totem pole again. They'd stick me right back in a patrol car."

"It wouldn't be so bad," Calleigh said in her soft voice. "You'd move right back up to where you were."

"I don't want to go back," Horatio whispered. "I'm happy right where I am."

Calleigh sighed and walked around the table as Ryan and Lisa approached the room.

"Alright, you're good to go," Lisa said with a smile, setting a case file with a thick stack of papers in it. She extended her hand to Ryan and then Calleigh. "It was nice meeting you, Lieutenant Wolfe, Officer Duquesne."

"Like wise," Calleigh said, shaking her hand. She looked at Horatio, a longing expression evident in her eyes. "It was good to see you again, Horatio."

Horatio didn't even look at her. He simply nodded his head as he sealed an evidence box.

"I'll show you to the elevator," Lisa said, leading them back through the forensics lab.

Horatio stood there alone, listening to them leave. He looked up and watched them disappear from sight. He suddenly rushed from the room, but went the opposite direction his former coworkers had. He ducked into the men's restroom and locked the door behind him. He sank to the ground, and, for the first time in two weeks, he cried from the sorrow he felt for leaving the people he called his family.


	4. Chapter 3

**There's a brief section in this chapter that has an adult theme, but it's nothing bad, still T rated.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Three: How to Determine if You're Sane without Medication<p>

* * *

><p>Horatio rode with Lisa in the unmarked CIA car, the forensic scene unit vehicle behind them. They pulled up to the charred remains of a small shipping warehouse, two bronze Hummers and a patrol car already there. The doors sounded loudly as they walked up to the building, several people emerging to see who was there.<p>

"Excuse me," Frank said, walking towards them, "Can I help you folks?" he asked, as if he didn't even know Horatio anymore.

"Agent Stevenson, Agent Caine, CIA," Lisa said, displaying her credentials. "We're here to check out our crime scene."

"Your crime scene?" Frank repeated. "I believe Miami Dade was called out to this one."

"Well we have reason to believe it's the same person responsible for three other bombings that we're investigating."

"Oh yeah? How long have you been doing that?"

"Two and a half years," Lisa responded. "And we've made quite the headway with our new explosives and weaponry expert."

"And who would that be?" Frank continued to harass them.

"Agent Caine, of course," Lisa informed him. "Now, if you'll kindly leave the evidence and the crime scene we'll take over."

"No," Ryan said, stepping forward, "This is _our_ scene."

"Lieutenant Wolfe," Lisa said with a fake smile, "How nice to see you again."

"Yeah, same here," Ryan retorted, staring her down, not even looking at Horatio.

"Lieutenant, we're going to ask you again to kindly take your crime scene team and leave," Lisa said in a determined voice.

"No," Ryan said again, "We're not leaving our scene. We were called out to this so we're finishing it through to the end."

"Have you made headway on your bomber case?" Lisa inquired.

Ryan stood there for a moment before he answered. "No," he quietly said, "We haven't."

"And that's why we were called in," Lisa said with a smirk. "Now, pack up your kits, leave the evidence, and leave the scene now, or I'll have you arrested for interfering with a federal investigation."

"No," Ryan snapped, "We're not leaving! My CSI team was called out to this scene so we have jurisdiction!"

Horatio couldn't take it anymore. He walked over to Ryan and grabbed him by his left upper arm.

"Mr. Wolfe," he hissed in his face, "I don't want to arrest you in front of your team. That's the last thing you need as Lieutenant. If you don't leave in the next sixty seconds I will be obligated to forcibly remove you from the scene. If you think I'm joking, which you should very well know I'm not, then you will regret your decision as you sit inside a federal prison."

Ryan looked at him, anger burning in his eyes. He pulled his arm from his grasp and took a step back.

"You're not the Horatio I used to know," he whispered. He turned and walked back towards the other CSIs. "Come on guys, pack up your stuff. Leave any evidence you already have bagged and your notes." He grabbed his crime scene kit and walked back towards one of the Hummers. "We'll email you the photos we've already taken within the hour," he called out to Horatio and Lisa.

"Thank you Lieutenant Wolfe," Lisa yelled to Ryan as he started his Hummer and pulled away from the scene.

Horatio watched as Calleigh and Eric loaded their kits into the second Hummer and drove away, Frank following close behind in his patrol car.

Horatio stood there alone, Lisa already leading the crime scene team into the warehouse. He watched the Hummers drive away as Ryan flipped him off through the open window.

* * *

><p>"You handled the Lieutenant very well, Horatio," Lisa said as they loaded evidence into the crime scene vehicle.<p>

"Yeah, sure," Horatio muttered as he walked back towards the warehouse.

He was doing one last walk through when he heard something clatter. He turned to see someone running down the charred hall.

"Hey!" Horatio yelled, drawing his weapon and following after them. "Mia- CIA, stop where you are!"

The person dashed around ruined walls and through an open door, back outside.

"Federal Agent, stop right there!" Horatio tried again.

He watched the person in black pants and a black hooded sweatshirt duck into a car. Horatio raised his gun, but felt his blood run cold as her hood fell off. Her brown eyes locked with his for a moment before she gunned the engine and sped away.

Lisa ran up next to him, panting for air, her gun in her hand.

"What the hell, Caine?" she snapped. "Why didn't you shoot? That could have been our suspect and you let them drive away!"

"I'm sorry," Horatio whispered, "I don't know what happened."

"Have you lost the audacity to shoot a gun?" Lisa asked in an angry tone.

"I don't know what's going on with me," Horatio quietly explained.

"Well you better get over it, because if you can't grow a pair and shoot at a woman then I'm going to drop your ass faster then you can apologize next time!" She turned and stormed off back towards the warehouse.

Horatio stood there alone, wishing he knew what it was he was really seeing.

* * *

><p>Horatio quietly stood in the entrance to Lisa's cubical, watching her type on her computer.<p>

"I hope you know I have to include in my report the part where you chickened out and didn't shoot the car," she said, still fuming from that afternoon. "This isn't Miami Dade. We don't cover each other's mistakes."

"No one covered my mistake," Horatio quietly retorted. "It just wasn't deemed necessary for the investigation to include the fact that I didn't fire at the suspect's car."

"Well around here we think everything's necessary until proven otherwise."

Horatio sighed and continued to linger in the doorway. "Lisa, I wanted to apologize again for what I did this afternoon. I should have taken the shot, no matter what she looked like."

Lisa stopped typing and slowly turned in her chair. She looked at Horatio with a soft expression.

"What did she look like?" she quietly asked.

"Short brown hair, about chin length," Horatio began describing, "With brown eyes and olive toned skin. Young, maybe mid-thirties, slender build, very fast on her feet."

Lisa looked at him, listening carefully but not taking notes.

"Who was she to you?" she finally asked.

Horatio looked at her, dread filling his veins. "My wife," he whispered, "My wife who was murdered."

"Oh Horatio," Lisa quietly said, standing from her chair. "I wish I had known." She carefully wrapped her arms around him and held him gently.

"It's ok," he whispered, hugging her back.

She pulled back from their embrace and looked deep into his eyes.

"Do you want to have dinner with me tonight?" Horatio quietly asked her. "It's the least I can do after letting our only suspect get away."

A small smile graced Lisa's face. "You know what, I think I don't hate you just enough to accept. Just let me finish this up and I'll come find you at your desk."

Horatio smiled and nodded his head. "Alright, um, great," he quietly said. "I'll be waiting for you."

He walked back to his desk, suddenly feeling like he was floating on cloud nine. He sat in his chair, one not quite as comfortable as his old office chair. He leaned back and just smiled. He hadn't felt this excited in a long time; over three years if he was honest with himself. He stared off into space, just thinking about Lisa.

He realized he still had a report to finish. He opened a new internet window and navigated to his email. He entered his new CIA email address and began scrolling through his inbox, looking for an email the DNA analysis said she would send him. He felt like his heart had stopped when he saw the familiar username.

_MarigoldDelko_

He had a new message from the account. His stomach twisted into knots, afraid someone was playing a cruel joke on him. He hesitated but opened the message. There was an image document attached. He clicked on the link and waited only about three seconds for the image to fill the screen of his computer.

Horatio stared at a picture of himself, standing outside the charred warehouse from that afternoon. He was holding his gun in his hand, a perplexed expression on his face, as the wind blew his blazer open, revealing the CIA badge clipped to his belt. He examined the picture. He could tell that from the angle it was taken at and the scene around him the photographer would have had to have been facing the backside of the warehouse.

"Ready to go?"

Horatio jumped and quickly closed the picture. He spun his chair and looked at where Lisa stood, peeking her head into his cubical.

"Um, yeah," he awkwardly said, closing the internet browser and turning off his computer.

"What was that picture you were looking at?" Lisa inquired as they walked along the hall to the stairs.

"Um, just something someone from MDPD sent me," he quickly lied. "I guess someone snapped a shot of me when we were walking onto the scene this afternoon."

"I didn't see any of you in the file Lieutenant Wolfe sent me," Lisa said, the confusion evident in her voice.

"Eric took it on his cell phone," he lied again.

"Why didn't he just text it to you?"

"I changed my number."

They walked out into the parking lot together in the evening dusk.

"Where did you park?" Horatio inquired.

"Over there," Lisa said, nodding her head to the left. "But I was wondering if maybe you'd like to ride together instead." A shy smile graced her face as she looked at him.

Horatio smiled, knowing what exactly she meant.

"You know, I think I'd like that," he said, opening the passenger door on his maroon Audi A6 for her.

"Wow, nice car," Lisa said, clearly impressed. "I didn't think MDPD paid you guys this much."

"They don't," Horatio chuckled, "But the bomb squad pays you quite a bit if you can stay alive long enough for your next mission."

Lisa giggled and smiled at him as they rode together through the streets of Miami.

"You're funny," she quietly said.

"Thank you," Horatio replied, "I was only half serious about that."

* * *

><p>Horatio and Lisa sipped wine as they sat together in Horatio's living room.<p>

"You have a beautiful home," Lisa said, taking in the impressive expansive windows and exposed oak beams.

"Thank you, it took some time, but I finally found a place I actually like going home to," Horatio said with a smile.

Lisa smiled at him and scooted closer to him on the couch. She rested her hand on his thigh, trailing her fingers along the inside of it. Horatio smiled back at her, as he tentatively leaned in towards her.

Their lips met in a timid kiss, just barely brushing against each other. They smiled at each other, the tips of their noses touching. Horatio leaned in and cautiously kissed her again. It was soft and tender, as the electricity between them grew.

Then, before he could even realize it, they were together in his bed, naked and tangled within each other. Lisa gasped softly as Horatio tenderly thrusted into her.

"Oh god, Horatio," she said, running her hands across his strong back. "Oh god, you're so big."

Horatio smirked to himself as he kissed her again and again. They hit their release together, afterwards falling asleep in each other's arms.

They awoke the next morning to Horatio's alarm. He sat up and looked at Lisa as the sleep slowly left her eyes. She smiled up at him and he gently stroked her cheek.

"Interdepartmental relationships are forbidden," she quietly said, getting straight to business as she always did. She sat up and looked at him, still naked and his hair messed with sleep. "But I think you would be worth it," she said as she kissed him.

"Are you sure?" Horatio asked, his hands wandering across her body.

"Yes, we just have to be careful," Lisa quietly said. "We can't do anything that would suggest otherwise. No holding hands, no driving together, nothing together that's obviously a date."

"I think we could manage," Horatio quietly said, guiding her back onto the bed.

"I need to go home," Lisa said between kisses. "I have to shower and change. Someone will notice if I come in wearing the same thing from yesterday."

"Shower here," Horatio said, "Then we'll swing by your place so you can change."

"Someone will notice we drove together."

"Your car is at the CIA," he pointed out. "Maybe you should have thought about that last night."

* * *

><p>Horatio sat in his Audi A6 outside Lisa's townhouse. He watched as pedestrians passed him by; some jogging, some walking their dogs, others just enjoying the early morning sun. He watched a mother jog past on the sidewalk, pushing a baby stroller in front of her. Another runner easily dodged her, making room for the young mother and her child. She glanced at Horatio's car; something several people had done since he had been idling there for ten minutes. She looked at him with her brown eyes before she took off running.<p>

Realization suddenly hit him and Horatio leapt from his car. He ran after her, yelling for her to stop. He grabbed at his belt and realized he didn't have his CIA issued weapon. He tore through the crowd, trying to catch up to the familiar woman. He could see her short brown hair bouncing with her strides as she tried to escape him. He ordered for her to stop, but she ignored him. He rounded a corner but lost sight of her. He stood there, panting for air, wishing he could have been quicker.

A maroon car pulled up beside him and the passenger window rolled down.

"You know," Lisa said with a smirk, "Leaving your car with the keys in the ignition is never a good idea no matter where you live."

Horatio continued to pant for air as he opened the passenger door and climbed in. Lisa looked at him apprehensively.

"Don't you want to switch places?" she inquired.

"Just drive," Horatio said, buckling his seat belt.

"Are you sure?"

"You're already driving my ridiculously expensive car. What's it matter?"

"Is something wrong, Horatio?" Lisa inquired as she pulled back onto the road.

"Yeah, the bomber suspect just jogged right past your house."

Lisa hit the brakes hard. Someone blared their horn as they swerved to avoid rear ending her.

"You saw the bomber?" she snapped.

"Yeah, hence the reason I was running."

"Why didn't you drive after her?"

Horatio sat there baffled. He hadn't thought of that.

"I, I, I don't know," he quietly said. "I panicked and instinct took over and I just ran after her."

"You're sure it was her?" Lisa asked again as she began driving again.

"If it wasn't, my dead wife's out jogging right now," Horatio muttered in a bitter voice.

* * *

><p><strong>So I had several people comment and send me private messages about my making Ryan Wolfe Lieutenant. Here's my reasoning behind the decision: Horatio left so suddenly everyone was kind of in shock and no one really wanted to step up to the plate. Eric's supposed to still be in shock from his sister dying, and now his brother-in-law leaving, so he's lost, and Calleigh wasn't ready to step up, since she feels like she wouldn't be able to fill Horatio's shoes. Ryan, still being the newest member of the team, was able to detach himself from the situation and realize that someone had to take charge and move the lab forward from the rut they were stuck in from Horatio's departure of the lab. Yeah, Ryan may not seem like the best candidate, but it's my story. I didn't make this very clear when I wrote the story, and I just thought I would explain.<strong>


	5. Chapter 4

Chapter Four: How to Make Everyone Hate You in Less Then a Day

* * *

><p>"You can't do this!" Ryan continued to yell as the CIA Agents carried the evidence boxes through his crime lab. "That evidence is part of an ongoing investigation! If you remove it from this building a killer could very well walk!"<p>

Horatio turned and looked at Ryan, staring the young man down. He looked at him in his suit and light blue dress shirt. His eyes wandered down to where his shirt was tucked into his pants, something Ryan hadn't done very often in the past, even when wearing a suit. He looked at the gold badge clipped to his belt, the word "Lieutenant" printed across the top of the shield.

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Wolfe," Horatio said, "The CIA has determined that the Miami Dade Crime Lab is unable to move forward with this case. You've had the evidence for eight months and have made absolutely no progress. In that time the bombing of shipping warehouses has become more frequent, resulting in more victim fatalities. The CIA believes you will not be able to ever solve this case, therefore we're seizing your evidence in order to process it ourselves."

"You're the one who collected and processed it to begin with!" Ryan snapped at him. "Your name is all over those reports! So if anyone is to blame it's you, Horatio!"

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Wolfe," Horatio quietly muttered, "Suck my dick." He turned and continued his path to the elevator.

Lisa smirked at him as he joined her outside the doors.

"Did you really just tell the Miami Lieutenant to suck your dick?" she whispered to him.

An embarrassed yet satisfied grin played across Horatio's face.

"Wolfe's too hot headed sometimes," he said as they waited for the elevator.

"Let's just hope he doesn't try to appeal our seizure," Lisa quietly said. "That little statement could cause a bit of a problem."

"H!" someone called out.

Horatio turned, rather confused. Since he started working for the CIA eight months prior, no one had called him by his former nickname his CSI team had given him.

Eric trotted up to him, stopping about five feet from him, as if he didn't want to get too close. He fidgeted nervously, trying to form the words he needed.

"Why are you doing this?" he finally asked.

Horatio turned his head away, looking up to see what the elevator display said the cart was.

"I was given orders by my superior agent," he quietly said. "We were instructed to seize the evidence from the Miami Dade bomber case in order to further aid our investigation."

"That's not what I'm talking about," Eric quietly said. "I was asking why you're being such a dickhead."

Horatio looked at Eric shocked.

"Excuse me?" he said.

"Yeah, you heard me right," Eric said. "Ever since you left Miami and went to work for the CIA you've been nothing but a jerk. You're rude, impersonal, and a real bastard sometimes. You never call anymore. We've hardly talked at all in the last six months. I feel like I don't even know you anymore. What happened to the Horatio I knew? What happened to my brother?"

Horatio looked at him, anger burning deep within him.

"We're not brothers, Eric," he quietly said. "Marisol's dead."

The elevator doors dinged as they opened. Horatio and Lisa stepped into the cart. Eric stood there, glaring at Horatio as the doors closed.

"What was that about?" Lisa quietly asked him.

Horatio was silent.

"Horatio? Is something wrong?" Lisa continued on.

"Shut up, Lisa," Horatio muttered, stepping off the elevator. "I don't want to talk about it."

* * *

><p>Horatio walked through the charred warehouse. He was still angry about what had happened at the Crime Lab. He was angry with Ryan for being so obstinate and keeping the evidence away because he held a grudge against Horatio. He was mad at Eric for calling him out, accusing him of being something he wasn't. And he was mad at Lisa for being so clingy.<p>

Since they had started secretly dating two months prior, Lisa has been everything Horatio didn't want in a woman. She insisted on knowing exactly what he was going every second of the day. She wanted to know his plans when he had the day off, down to the littlest details. If he didn't answer her emails or texts she would call him. If he didn't answer her calls she would call until he did, filling his voicemail with useless messages until there was no memory left. If he didn't call her back she would show up on his doorstep. She had even accused him of having an affair. Horatio was starting to think being in a relationship with Lisa was a mistake in more ways than one.

He stormed through the wreckage, gun in hand. Since he had started working at the CIA there had been four additional bombings, becoming more frequent in the recent months. Every time it was the same thing. Some small shipping warehouse that no one even knew existed had been blown to pieces with several people inside. The CIA was called in and the crime scene evaluated. Twice at two of those scenes the woman with the short dark hard had appeared, fleeing in a different car each time.

This time, Horatio was ready for her. He didn't care who she looked like. She was a suspect. And she had to be brought in.

There was a light clattering noise. Horatio didn't vocally respond. He quietly crept along a charred wall, trying to stay invisible. Someone sprinted past him in all black. Horatio ran after them. He stopped for a moment and raised his gun, clicking the safety off. He fired three times and watched the person drop to the ground just before they reached the door.

"You son of a bitch," Horatio muttered as he approached the wounded figure, "Now you're going to get it."

He grabbed the person's slender upper arm. She fought him off, trying to mask her face. Blood poured from the wound in her left thigh, as Lisa called out Horatio's name. He struggled with her, trying to pull her hood down, but she continued to fight. He grasped the back of her hood and yanked it off.

His heart stopped and he stared at the young woman's face. She looked at him with a pained expression. He stared at her, trying to wrap his head around what he was seeing. His hand trembled as he reached for her face.

"Marisol," he whispered.

She suddenly grabbed his gun by the muzzle that he forgot he had been holding. She swung her arm and pistol whipped him across the face a few times. He cried out in pain as she beat him mercilessly. His knees buckled and he doubled over in pain as she continued to beat him. She grabbed a handful of his red hair and pulled him upright.

"I'm sorry, Horatio," she whispered as she placed the muzzle of the gun against his shoulder.

He screamed as the crack of the gun sounded through the small room. He collapsed to the ground as he began to bleed from the wound in his shoulder.

She limped away from him, towards a car idling not even ten feet from the door. He fought to stand but the pain in his shoulder was far too much. Tires squealed as she sped away from him once again.

Horatio laid there on his stomach, blood pooling around him on the ground. Pain seared through his shoulder as he stared in the direction her car had driven away in.

* * *

><p>Agent Thompson walked into Horatio's hospital room, a grim expression on his face.<p>

"Well, Caine, the doctor says you're going to be just fine," he said. "The shooter managed to miss everything vital in your shoulder. It was just a through and through in the muscle. A little time and rest and you'll be better before you know."

Horatio looked at him. "Then why do you look so upset?" he asked.

"Caine, you let a suspect steal your glock and then shoot you with it," Thompson said. "That's a very serious matter."

"I didn't let her take it," Horatio snapped. "She stole it from me."

"A little girl stole your gun?"

"This was not just some little girl," Horatio retorted.

"How so?"

"I think she has some kind of training, at least in combat. Military, police, could be anything. All I know for certain is that 'little girl' knew how to fight."

"Sure Caine, we'll look into it," Thompson replied with a certain bitterness in his voice. "Until then, you're going to be placed on probation for loosing your field weapon."

"Are you by chance related to anyone by the last name Stetler?" Horatio inquired.

"No, why?"

"Just curious."

Thompson left and Horatio was alone again. Lisa had yet to come visit him, claiming it would look suspicious if she did. However, Horatio really wasn't all that upset she wasn't there. He really rather enjoyed the time alone.

He looked out the window, wishing the ones he had once called his family were there to comfort him, just as they always had been in the past. A nurse walked in, but Horatio paid her no attention, until she dropped a gun on the tray that sat next to his bed.

The loud sound startled him, causing him to jump slightly. He looked up at the nurse. She was wearing blue scrubs with a blue surgical cap and blue face mask. All that was visible on her head were her brown eyes. Eyes he would never forget as long as he lived. Horatio stared at her, once again trying to figure it all out.

"Listen to me," she quickly said in a soft voice, "I'm exactly who you think I am. I'm sorry I've been living a lie the last four years, but I had to do it. The Mala Noche were onto to me."

Horatio continued to stare at her, unsure if whether he should believe her or not.

"I know you don't believe me," she said, as if she had read his mind, "But I swear it's true. I'm alive and well. I've been in hiding the last four years, trying to catch the Mala Noche. Yes, I'm the one who's been setting off the bombs. I know, a little rogue of me, but you have to understand, Horatio, I mean no one harm. All those bodies that have been piling up are Mala Noche gang members.

"My boss specifically put me on this case because he knew I could cover my tracks. I was good for two years until you were at that scene the MDPD got a hold of. It was supposed to go to the CIA, but you were too quick and you firmly stood your ground when Thompson tried to interject. I knew you would figure it out eventually, that's why I sent the Agent to offer you the CIA job. But he wasn't a real CIA Agent. He was an undercover FBI Agent. He posed as a CIA Agent to lure you in. I knew you would want to break away from the Crime Lab eventually, so I took a chance. The CIA doesn't work as efficiently as your CSI team does. That's why I had to break you away. If you left then they would be lost without their fearless leader.

"I'm sorry, Horatio. I've wanted to tell you for so long."

He sat there silently. He looked into her brown eyes, trying to find the truth in her words.

"Who are you?" was the only thing he could think to say.

She dug into the pocket of her scrubs and pulled out a leather wallet. She flipped it open, revealing an ID card and gold badge.

"Marisol Delko Caine, Secret Agent for the United States Federal Bureau of Investigation."

He stared at her badge, re-reading her ID card and examining the picture. At first glance it looked real. He looked back up at her, the pain evident in his eyes.

"You've been alive this whole time," he whispered.

"Yes, I'm sorry, Horatio," she quietly said. She suddenly turned and rushed from the room, disappearing from his sight.

Horatio sat there, alone in his hospital room. Sudden pain seared through his body. He turned and vomited onto the floor and his vision blurred and doubled as the room shifted from vertigo.

Then he passed out.


	6. Chapter 5

Chapter Five: How to Tell a Lie Even You'll Believe

* * *

><p>"I still don't understand, Caine," Thompson said as he sat at his desk.<p>

"I'm telling you the truth," Horatio sniped at him. "I opened my front door this morning and there was a package. I opened it and found my glock inside."

"Then why didn't you bring in the packaging?" Thompson asked.

"Because I have an old habit I've been trying to get rid of," Horatio said. "I tore the paper off and threw it in the fire place. It burned rather quickly."

"You had a fire going in your house? In Miami, in the middle of July?"

"My air conditioning was on the fritz," Horatio quickly retorted. "Just please tell me you're going to take me off probation already. I'm sick of sitting at that damn desk doing nothing."

Thompson glared at him, the gears obviously turning in his head.

"Fine," he quietly said, "You're off probation, but you're only permitted lab work. I can't have a one armed agent out in the field."

"Thank you, Agent Thompson," Horatio said with a nod. He turned and left the room.

Horatio walled quickly through the maze of desks and ducked into the stairwell. Someone pushed him against the wall and pressed their lips to his.

"Hello handsome," Lisa said in a seductive voice as she ran her tongue along his cheek.

Horatio squirmed away from her, rather disgusted by her terrible breath.

"Not at work, Lisa," he said as a quick excuse.

"Oh come on, Horatio," Lisa said, advancing towards him. She pushed him back against the wall by his shoulders.

Horatio yelped in pain and grabbed at his arm that was still in the sling. He pulled away from her and tried to act as if his arm still hurt.

"Lisa, you can't do that, it still hurts," Horatio lied.

Lisa scoffed and paced the stairwell.

"Horatio, you've been in that damn sling for two weeks. When are the doctors going to take it off?"

"I don't know," Horatio lied again. He looked at her angry and disappointed face. "But you'll be the first to know," he gently said, walking towards her. He softly kissed her forehead, trying not to recoil in disgust from the taste of her excessive make up.

She smiled up at him, gently placing her hands on his chest.

"Ok, I guess I can wait a little longer to bone your hot body," she smirked.

Horatio fayed a happy expression. "Oh boy," he quietly said.

"_Only if you shower first, smelly,"_ he thought to himself.

"Come on," Lisa said, stepping back from him, "Thompson said there's a new agent he wants us to meet."

"Funny," Horatio commented as they walked back into the main office area, "He didn't mention anything just now when I was with him."

They found Thompson talking to several agents from the IT department in the break room, a young woman with short dark hair standing next to him.

"Ah, Stevenson, Caine, glad to see you got the memo," he said.

"Actually, I didn't get the memo, Robert," Horatio replied. "I only just found out when Lisa told me."

Thompson shot him an angry look.

"Are you trying to tell me something, Caine?" he asked, trying to maintain a professional manner.

"Yes, when sending out a memo, include those of us you deem not worthy. Now, who's your new friend?"

Thompson smiled, trying to not snap Horatio's face off.

"I'd like to introduce everyone to our newest agent, Jane Smith."

The young woman looked at Horatio. His heart stopped and his jaw dropped. She smiled at her new coworkers, greeting each of them. She looked at Horatio, her eyes bright with life. She extended her hand, but Horatio was unable to move. She glanced at his hand, prompting him to act naturally. He slowly reached out and grasped her hand. It felt the same as it always had.

"Nice to meet you, Agent Caine," she said in her melodic voice.

"Like wise," was all Horatio could manage.

"What department do you work for?" she continued on.

"Forensics," Horatio answered, "Explosives and Weaponry Specialist."

"Oh, Explosives and Weaponry Specialist," she smirked. "Sounds sexy."

Lisa shot the woman an angry look, but quickly maintained her control.

"What about you?" Horatio managed to ask.

"Internal Intelligence," she answered, "I'll be working mostly with terrorist plots and ploys. You know, trying to prevent them from happening."

"I see," Horatio quietly said.

"What happened to your arm?" she inquired.

"I was shot while working in the field. The suspect got the upper hand and shot me with my own weapon and then stole it. Returned it to my personal address two weeks later, though."

"Ouch," she said with a pained expression, "That must have hurt."

"Hit below the belt, too," Horatio added. "I think my pride sustained a worse injury."

"I'm sorry to hear that," she quietly said.

"Well if you'll excuse us," Thompson interjected, "I need to take Agent Smith to the International Intelligence Department still. As you were."

Horatio watched them walk away, a certain longing in his heart. She turned her head back and looked at him with her warm brown eyes. Then she disappeared around the corner.

"I don't like her," Lisa said as they made their way back to the forensic department.

"You're just saying that because she used the exact same line you did the day you met me," Horatio retorted.

"Or maybe I didn't like some bitch marching into my territory and trying to steal my tabby cat," Lisa sassed.

Horatio stopped and looked at her.

"Tabby cat? Really?" he said. "You're calling me your house cat?"

"Of course I am, little puss hound," she said, wrapping both her arms around his free one.

"Shut up and let go of my arm, Lisa," Horatio grumbled as the elevator doors closed on them.

* * *

><p>Horatio was examining tool marks on parts from a pipe bomb when he heard someone walk in and close the door. He looked up at her. She was just standing there. He sighed and looked back into the microscope.<p>

"I'm sorry, Horatio," she quietly said, stepping towards him.

"You owe me more than just an apology," Horatio said, trying to keep the bitterness out of his voice. "You owe me four years of grieving, over two hundred confessional sessions, thousands of hours spent crying and mourning, not to mention my career at the Miami Dade Crime Lab."

"Horatio, I don't know what to say."

"Then why don't you just start talking, Marisol," he said, finally straightening up from the microscope. "Just start rambling on with some stupid story about faking your death so you could go work for the FBI, fighting crime right under my damn nose. Just tell me how you still love me and you want us to get back together, rekindle our marriage that you forcibly destroyed. Just tell me whatever lie you want, Mari, because I'm not going to believe a word of it."

Marisol stood there, just staring at him. She nervously picked at her nails, chipping the clear nail polish off.

"I don't know what to say," she quietly said. "I have nothing to say. Because like you said, you won't believe it anyways. I wish there was something I could do to make it up to you after all these years, Horatio, but there's nothing."

She turned and walked back to the door. She grasped the doorknob but turned back to face him.

"For what it's worth, you're right," she quietly said. "I do still love you."

* * *

><p>"I'm telling you, there's something off about that new girl," Lisa said as she angrily cut into her steak.<p>

Horatio sighed and shook his head. He pushed the salad on his plate around with his fork, not really hungry.

"I think you're just being paranoid, Lisa," he said.

"No, I'm serious, Horatio," she retorted, biting into the blackened piece of meat on her fork. "There's something about her that's just not right. I can feel it in my bones."

Horatio looked back down at his plate, not wanting to watch her barbarian ways of eating.

"I thought you said we shouldn't have dinner together in public," Horatio said, trying to change the topic.

"What, we're just a couple of colleagues having dinner. What's weird about that?"

"Oh nothing, I suppose," Horatio quietly muttered. He looked up and felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Ryan, Eric, Calleigh, and Natalia all walking in together. "Great," he mumbled, looking away. He hoped none of them would notice him, but knew that would be difficult with his familiar red hair.

"Oh great," Lisa said through a mouthful of steak, "those Miami Dade wannabes are here."

Horatio shot her an angry look.

"Excuse me, but those Miami Dade wannabes are my friends," he retorted.

"Really? Do you often tell your friends to leave crime scenes and suck your dick?"

Horatio felt his face flush from anger and embarrassment. He glared down at his salad, wanting nothing more then for Lisa to spontaneously combust.

"Excuse me," he muttered as he stood from the table.

"Where do you think you're going?" Lisa snapped, gripping her steak knife like a vice.

"To the restroom," Horatio retorted as he walked away. "Unless you want me to piss on your shoes."

He walked through the restaurant towards the restroom in the back. His shoulder collided with someone else's and he turned to look at them.

"Sorry," Ryan quickly said. He looked at Horatio as realization hit him. "H," he said in a soft voice, his eyes filled with a mixture of emotions.

"Lieutenant Wolfe," Horatio responded. "Having dinner with your team?"

"Yeah, we just caught the Miami Beach serial killer we've been after for two years," Ryan explained. "We came out to celebrate."

Horatio looked at him as a proud smile began to creep across his face.

"You caught him?" he quietly said.

A smile suddenly played across Ryan's face as his eyes brightened with pride.

"Yeah, we did," he said.

Horatio smiled as he grasped Ryan's shoulder.

"I'm so proud of you," he nearly whispered.

"Thanks, H. We had a good lead, though. The last Lieutenant was ruthless with catching this guy."

Horatio chuckled and squeezed Ryan's shoulder. Ryan looked at the sling on Horatio's arm, noticing it for the first time.

"Horatio, what happened?" he quietly asked.

"The warehouse bomber shot me with my glock," Horatio explained.

"Warehouse bomber?" Ryan repeated confused. "I haven't heard about him in like a month."

"That's because it happened three weeks ago," Horatio quietly admitted.

"Wow, he must have done some major damage to put you out that long."

"Weeeeeeell…" Horatio said, trying to figure out what to say. "I can't lie to you, Ryan. I may be faking it a little."

"You? Horatio Caine, faking an injury?" Ryan said with a chuckle.

"Yeah, the longer I wear the sling the longer I have to put off having sex with Lisa again," Horatio whispered.

"Lisa? Who's Lisa?"

"Agent Stevenson," Horatio answered.

"Ohhhhh," Ryan said with a sly look. "You got yourself a little bed buddy from the CIA."

"I wish I didn't," Horatio whispered.

"Dude, Ryan, you get lost on the way to the John?" Eric asked as he walked up. The smile on his face quickly faded away when he saw Horatio. "Agent Caine," he said in a dry tone.

"Officer Delko," Horatio responded, not wanting to push his luck.

"Oh my god, Eric," Ryan said, still laughing a little, "You're never going to believe this. Horatio's faking his shoulder injury to avoid getting laid!"

Eric glared at Ryan before he brought his gaze back to Horatio.

"Whatever," he muttered, "Still doesn't change what he's become."

Shots suddenly rang out in the restaurant. People screamed as they ducked to the floor. Horatio drew his weapon and began scanning.

"Where is he?" a man's voice yelled out. "Where's the Lieutenant?"

A deranged looking man rounded the corner. His eyes locked on Ryan and he raised his gun.

"You son of a bitch!" he screamed. "How could you lock up my brother like that?"

Ryan froze with fear as the man clicked the safety off on his gun.

Horatio's arm tore the material of the sling from around his neck as he shielded Ryan with his body. Pain ripped through his left shoulder. He raised his glock and fired at the man. He suddenly dropped to the ground, gasping for air as blood poured from his mouth and chest. Within seconds his body went limp.

Lisa came rushing around the corner, her glock held protectively in both her hands. Patrons gathered and restaurant staff rushed in. Horatio pulled his leather wallet from his pocket, opening it to display his badge and credentials.

"Federal Agents," he announced, gasping for air as the pain became more intense.

Lisa ordered for people to back away as she pulled out her cell phone to call for backup.

Horatio turned and looked at where Ryan was still pressed flat against the wall, his entire body shaking. His large eyes darted to Horatio as he tried to form words. Eric suddenly stepped in between them. He looked at Horatio with a soft expression as his lips trembled.

"You protected him," he whispered.

Horatio nodded his head as he pressed his handkerchief to his bleeding shoulder.

"Even though we're been doing nothing but talking crap about you for the last year, you still threw yourself in front of a bullet to save Ryan," Eric quietly said.

"Yes Eric," Horatio quietly responded, trying to keep calm as the pain became more intense, "Because that's my job. No matter the badge I wear, I vowed to protect the citizens of Miami."

Eric suddenly wrapped his arms around Horatio, holding him close as his emotions became too much for him.

"Thank you," he whispered, his voice cracking slightly.

Horatio smiled and hugged him back.

"You're welcome, Eric," he whispered in response.

Eric and Ryan waited with Horatio as an EMT bandaged his wounded shoulder.

"Well it looks like you have a new excuse for the next three weeks to not bang your new friend," Ryan said with a mischievous smirk.

"Yeah, and a damn good one," Horatio chuckled lightly. He looked at the two younger men and smiled. "So what kind of crap have you guys been saying about me since I left?"

Eric and Ryan's faces both flushed a deep shade of red. They stood together awkwardly, looking at their feet. Horatio laughed and clapped each of them on the shoulder.

"It's alright," he said with a smile, "It's been happening to me a lot longer then you'd think."


	7. Chapter 6

**The end of this chapter has very mild adult themes. It's non-descriptive, so I'm going to keep the T rating.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Six: How to Make a Woman Hate You Without Even Trying<p>

* * *

><p>Horatio watched her walk past the lab he was working in. He knew she could see him; the walls were made of glass, just like in his old lab. He sighed and continued looking over the case file in his hand. He stopped and flipped back several pages, re-reading over his report. He flipped forward a few pages and then back to his original spot.<p>

"What the hell," he muttered to himself.

"What's wrong, Horatio?" Lisa asked as she walked in.

"Part of my report's missing," he said, still flipping through the case report. "I can't find the section about the woman in black fleeing the scene."

"You actually included that?'

"Yes, because I don't believe in leaving out vital details." He closed the file and grabbed a different one off the stack. He flipped through the pages, growing more frustrated by the second. "I can't believe this. It looks like someone altered my reports."

"Did you even include it in the first place?"

"Yes!" Horatio snapped, unable to hide his frustration with her. "I included the part where the suspect fled the scene in a red Dodge Stratus."

He collected his case files and rushed from the lab and up the stairs, Lisa hot on his trail. He sat at his computer and opened the original documents containing his case reports. He scrolled through the documents, becoming more aggravated.

"I can't believe this," he grumbled. "Someone's altered my reports!"

"Horatio, it's impossible for anyone to alter your reports." Lisa said, "You computer is password protected. No one can access your documents unless they have your password. You probably just forgot to include the part about the suspect."

"No, I didn't!" Horatio snapped again. "I remember because I couldn't remember the license plate numbers and it frustrated me that I couldn't recall such an important detail!"

"Horatio, you're being unreasonable," Lisa commented.

"You're one to talk," Horatio muttered.

"And what's that supposed to mean?" Lisa snapped.

"You showed up at my house at two in the morning when I didn't answer my phone."

"I was worried about you!"

"No, you thought I was cheating on you," Horatio said. "I'm surprised you didn't give me a prostate examine to make sure Eric and I weren't screwing around behind your back."

"What was that man doing at your house anyways?" Lisa hissed.

"He's my brother-in-law," Horatio said in an annoyed tone. "We were just talking, catching up on lost time. Everyone from the Crime Lab cut me out of their lives until recently."

"You mean after you save the Miami Dade Lieutenant from an assassination attempt."

"Yes, exactly," Horatio snipped. "You're just upset because Thompson gave me an accreditation for saving the life of the MDPD Lieutenant and not you."

"Anyone could have blocked a bullet," Lisa hissed as she walked away.

"But you didn't!" Horatio called after her. He couldn't help but smile to himself, knowing he wouldn't be having sex later that night.

Horatio pounded on the keys of his computer, trying to figure out where his original report had disappeared to. He was frustrated and tired. He didn't want to keep working anymore, something he had never felt at Miami Dade until the very end.

"Maybe it's time to retire," he muttered to himself.

"You can't do that. You haven't caught me yet."

Horatio turned and was surprised to see Marisol standing in the doorway of his cubical.

"You did it," he quietly said, standing from his chair. "You altered my reports, didn't you?"

"I'm sorry, Horatio," she whispered. "I had to do it."

"No you didn't!" Horatio snapped. "No where in that report did I give any vital details that gave away who you were!"

"I'm sorry, Horatio," Marisol said again. "I couldn't run the risk of the FBI finding out you actually saw me."

"Who do you work for?" Horatio quietly asked her. "The CIA or the FBI?"

"Both, but not as Marisol," she quietly answered. "I'm Marisol at the FBI and Jane here."

"Why?" Horatio said in a demanding voice.

"The FBI is trying to catch the Mala Noche with their weapon smuggling business." She stepped closer to him, looking deep into his eyes. "We've almost defeated them, Horatio. We're going to win this."

"No, Marisol," Horatio whispered, "You're going to win this. That's what you want, isn't it?"

He pushed past her and stormed through the office.

* * *

><p>Horatio embraced Ryan and Eric each as they said their good-byes.<p>

"It was nice of two of you to have dinner with me," he said as they lingered on his front porch in the warm Miami night.

"It's nice not hating you anymore," Ryan quietly said. "I'm sorry I was such a jerk to you, H."

"It's alright," Horatio said with a small smile. "I wasn't exactly being the nicest person about having to work your case for you."

"Really?" Ryan chuckled. "Telling someone to suck your dick isn't a nice way of interacting with the county police?"

Horatio rolled his eyes and leaned against the banister of his porch.

"You're never going to let me live that down, are you?" he asked, shaking his head.

"Nope, not as long as I live," Ryan chuckled.

"Well we better get going, H," Eric said, hugging the older man again. "Our Lieutenant doesn't take nicely to us being late, no matter the excuse."

"Just tell him to suck your dick," Horatio laughed. "Shut him up for me."

They heard a rustling sound in the bushes next to Horatio's porch. He released an exasperated sigh and shook his head.

"And it seems the nightly visit from my crazy girlfriend's about to ensue," he whispered to the other two men. "Enjoy your night and don't overwork yourselves, guys."

Horatio watched them drive away in Eric's car. He waited on his porch, scanning the yard for a sign of Lisa's car.

"Lisa, I know you're there," Horatio said to the darkness. "You might as well come out now."

A slender figure emerged from the bush and climbed onto his porch.

"When did you plant the marigolds in the backyard?" Marisol inquired as she stood next to him.

Horatio couldn't help but smile at the sight of her.

"About a year ago," he whispered.

"They're beautiful," she quietly said. "Marigolds always were my favorite."

"Father Jones told me to plant them one day after my confessional," Horatio quietly explained. "He told me it would help ease the pain of your death."

"I'm sorry, Horatio," Marisol said for what felt like the hundredth time. "I tried to get them to let me tell you, but they wouldn't let me."

Horatio looked at her. He reached out and gently touched her cheek.

"I've missed you so much," he said in a pained voice. "Everyday without you has been pure torture. I walk past the spot where you were shot and I wish I had died too."

"I wish there was something I could do to make it all up to you," Marisol whispered.

Horatio held her face in his hand. He slowly brought it to his own and kissed her gently. He opened the front door and led her inside.

"Just in case crazy Lisa's watching," he whispered as he kissed her again.

She twined her fingers into his soft red hair and parted his lips with her own. He encased her body in his strong arms, pressing her against the door. She fumbled with the buttons on his shirt and ran her hands across the t-shirt he wore beneath it.

"That's new," she commented as his lips roamed across her neck.

"One more layer to keep Lisa out," he said, ghosting his lips against her soft skin.

Marisol giggled as she continued to caress his body. "Why don't you break up with her?"

"Because she's fucking nuts," Horatio answered. "She'll torch my house or something if I try to leave her."

"So what are you going to do about it?"

"Just keep acting like a jerk until she gives up and leaves me."

Marisol giggled again and kissed him tenderly. "That doesn't sound like my Horatio," she whispered.

"That's because it's not your Horatio," he whispered.

He scooped her up in his arms and carried her to the bedroom. He laid her out on his bed, slowly pulling her clothes from her body. He took in her naked presence, gently touching her face.

"You don't look any different from the last time," he whispered.

"That's because I'm still the same person," she whispered in response.

Their naked bodies pressed together as their tongues continued to dance around each other. He slid into her familiar heat and gasped with pleasure.

"Oh Mari," Horatio whispered as he began thrusting, "I've missed you so much."

"I've never loved anyone else, Horatio," she whispered in his ear. "And I'll never love anyone again like I love you."


	8. Chapter 7

**From here on out there will be brief smut scenes, but again nothing descriptive. Mostly just a "they made love" kind of thing. They last about three sentences at the most.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Seven: How to Have Your Life Destroyed by Your Past<p>

* * *

><p>"Where were you last night?" Lisa snapped as she followed Horatio through the forensics lab.<p>

"Oh Jesus Christ, Lisa, give it a break!" Horatio hissed at her. "I'm not having an affair, no matter what you think I do when I'm alone!"

"I'm not concerned when you're alone," Lisa continued to interrogate him, "I'm worried when someone's at your house!"

"Lisa, Ryan and Eric are my friends!" Horatio snapped. "They've been like family to me for most of the last ten years of my life. I don't know why this is so hard for you to understand, but there's nothing going on between me and anyone at Miami Dade. Just get the hell over yourself!"

He slammed the door to his lab. He watched with a satisfied grin as Lisa stormed away once again.

"I'll get that woman to break up with me one of these days," he muttered to himself as he pulled on a lab coat.

"Or so you think," Marisol grinned from where she stood in the corner.

Horatio smiled at her and shook his head. "I should have known you were there," he said.

"What is she accusing you of now?" Marisol inquired as she watched him work.

"She thinks I'm having a gay relationship with Ryan or Eric or both," Horatio chuckled. "I can't seem to get her to understand that we're monogamous."

"Or so she thinks," Marisol grinned.

"Well as far as she knows my wife's dead," Horatio said. "As far as anyone knows you're dead."

Marisol sighed and looked at him with her brown eyes.

"No, Eric doesn't know I'm alive," she whispered.

"You haven't even told your own brother," Horatio said, the disappointment evident in his voice.

"No, I'm scared," she whispered.

"As you should be, Mari," Horatio said. He opened the door and left the lab.

* * *

><p>Horatio walked through the charred building. It was all too familiar. He knew what had happened. He looked at the burn patterns and the center of the explosion. Seven dead bodies were scattered through out the building. He walked to the back of the building and watched as she ran away. He pulled his gun off his belt and fired twice, leaving two bullet holes in the back end of her car. Tires squealed as Horatio watched his wife speed away in the black car.<p>

* * *

><p>He copied the report he had made and carried it back to his desk. He unlocked a drawer and slipped the extra copy in. He locked it and made sure it was secure. Horatio sighed as he sat at his desk alone, hoping Marisol wouldn't find the extra copies.<p>

* * *

><p>"Something's bothering you," Eric quietly said as he and Horatio ate dinner alone in the restaurant.<p>

"Nothing's wrong," Horatio whispered, "Everything's fine."

"No, something's wrong, H. I can tell. What's on your mind? You can tell me."

Horatio sighed and continued to stare at his food.

"I'm just under a lot of stress, that's all," Horatio whispered.

"The CIA's taking a bigger toll on you then you thought it would," Eric commented.

"Yeah, and this bomber's taking over my life. It's like she controls my every move. Just when I think I have her figured out she changes the rules. I can't figure her out and it's driving me crazy."

"Don't worry about it, H," Eric reassuringly said. "You'll catch him. You always do."

"That's what I'm most worried about," Horatio whispered so quietly Eric almost didn't hear him.

* * *

><p>Horatio rolled around in his bed, making love to the only woman in his life that mattered to him. He held her soft body close, savoring the way her skin felt against his own. He thrusted tenderly and kissed her gently. She moaned lightly and raked her nails down his back.<p>

"Why are you doing this to me?" he whispered to her.

"Because I still love you," Marisol whispered in response. "And I know you love me, too."

* * *

><p>Horatio screamed and kicked his desk when he found the drawer unlocked, his reports missing once again. He plugged in his USB drive. He knew there was no way it was possible. He shouldn't even have the memory card. It was against CIA regulations to take official documents from the building, but it was the only way he could guarantee she wouldn't alter his original reports.<p>

"Damn it!" he yelled as he slammed his fist onto the desk. He ripped the USB drive from the computer, not even bothering to properly eject it.

He stormed through the building and up two floors. He found her sitting at the computer in her office. He slammed the door behind him and smashed his hands against her desk.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" he yelled at her.

Marisol looked at him with a blank expression.

"I don't know what you're talking about," she said in an even tone.

"You're altering my reports!" Horatio hissed. "You keep removing the section of my report about the suspect fleeing the scene!"

"I told you I had to do it," she whispered.

"Marisol, you're interfering with a federal investigation! You can't alter my reports! I could get in major trouble for leaving out an important detail like this!"

"Even if it meant I would go to prison?" Marisol asked him, her eyes hard on his own.

Horatio stared at her, anger still burning through his cool blue eyes.

"I don't care what it would do to your life," he quietly hissed. "I care about saving the lives that you're destroying."


	9. Chapter 8

Chapter Eight: How to Regain Control

* * *

><p>They laid together in his bed, naked and worn. He looked deep into her brown eyes and gently stroked her cheek.<p>

"Why do you do this to me?" he whispered.

She was silent as she peered into his deep blue eyes.

"I told you," she whispered, "It's a private investigation. I can't have you telling everyone what I've done."

"You're murdering people," he whispered. "It's not right."

"Is it really murder?" she quietly asked. "They killed me first."

Horatio looked at her. His heart hurt at her words, but he knew how he really felt.

"You're not dead, Marisol," he responded in a hurt voice. "But those people you've torched are."

"They were Mala Noche. What's it matter?"

* * *

><p>"They were someone's child. That's why it matters."<p>

"We have a leak," Thompson said as he stood at the head of the conference table. "Someone within the CIA is leaking information about these warehouse bombings. According to Caine and Stevenson the victims of these bombings has been the Mala Noche, the weapon smuggling gang. The Mala Noche now knows we're onto them. We may need to go about our investigation in a different manner. These men are extremely dangerous."

Horatio sat there and listened to him say everything he already knew. He knew who was doing it all, but yet he couldn't say a word. He wasn't bound by anything. There were no legal ties, no moral obligations, nothing saying he couldn't tell them. Yet he felt he had taken a vow of silence.

He caught her eye from across the room. He wanted nothing more then to reveal what she really was. She was a double agent, an informant, a deceiver. She had no right doing what she was doing. She had ringed him into something he never wanted to be involved with. He wanted to be the one to tell all, divulge her big secret.

But yet something held him back.

* * *

><p>Horatio shifted through the remains that the crime scene analysis team had collected from the scene. He slowly but surely pieced together the puzzle. He could see her familiar work coming together. He felt it was senseless. It would be one more thing she would destroy. One more thing she would lift from his report in order to hide her tracks.<p>

A bit of dust flew into his eye and he stopped to remove his gloves. He rubbed at it as his eye watered and sighed and leaned against the wall. When he was sure it was gone, he reached into his pocket and pulled out his cell phone. He had a message from Ryan Wolfe. Horatio read over it and smiled when Ryan said he missed his old boss some days.

Then an idea hit him. She knew how to destroy evidence in the CIA, but would she be able to access it from a different lab?

He hit the callback number and listened to the phone ring several times before he answered.

"Lieutenant Wolfe," Ryan's voice sounded on the other end.

"Hello Lieutenant Wolfe," Horatio said as he began bagging the evidence back up, "This is Agent Caine from the CIA. I have a special request for your lab."

* * *

><p>"So let me get this straight," Thompson said as he watched Horatio and Ryan load the unmarked boxes into the Hummer, "You think that the leak is somehow altering your reports."<p>

"No, I know that's exactly what's happening," Horatio said, closing the back of the large SUV.

"Alright, so you want to deport the evidence and all further investigations to the Miami Dade Crime Lab?" Thompson continued.

"Exactly," Horatio answered. "I know the leak has somehow managed to hack my computer and has stolen evidence. I believe if we send evidence from further Mala Noche bombings to Miami Dade then we'll be better enabled to catch the bomber."

"Sounds like a plan," Thompson said with a nod, surprising Horatio a little. "Do you have any ideas of who the leak could be?"

Horatio stood there silently. He stared at the large CIA building. It towered over everything around it, as if it had control over the other buildings.

"No," Horatio quietly said, "I don't."

* * *

><p>Eric walked into the lab and looked at the evidence on the table.<p>

"What's all this?" he asked as he pulled on a pair of gloves.

"Well Horatio called me and said there's a leak at the CIA," Ryan explained as he shifted through the debris.

"Ok," Eric said, still confused.

"He thinks the leak is targeting him," Ryan continued. "You know, because he's the new guy. He's had his reports altered, evidence stolen, and his computer has been hacked multiple times. He has a hypothesis that if we analyze the evidence and write up the reports then maybe the leak won't alter anything, getting us one step closer to catching this Mala Noche bomber."

"You mean so the CIA can be one step closer," Eric grumbled.

"No," Horatio said as he walked in, "I'm not ditching all my work on your lab. We're working this together, like we should have all along."

A small smile crept across Eric's face. He looked from his former boss to the debris on the table.

"Alright Agent Caine," he said with a light chuckle, "Show us what we're looking for."

"Well, for starters pieces of the bomb," Horatio explained. "We need to piece it back together to figure out what the bomber's using."

"You don't know yet?" Eric inquired as he began digging out scraps of metal.

Horatio slowly shook his head. "Every time I almost figure it out someone beats me to it and the evidence is gone from right under my nose. If we can put this bomb back together it will be the first time we'd have the complete puzzle."

"Someone's actually stealing evidence?" Ryan inquired.

"Yes, and destroying my reputation as an explosives expert," Horatio responded. "Not to mention possible jail time for me."

"Then let's catch this bastard," Eric said, "Before he can ruin anymore lives."

Horatio looked at Eric, a sad expression on his face. He looked back down at the debris covered table and wished he could say what was on his mind.

* * *

><p>He held her body close to his in his bed, stroking her back. He looked deep into her brown eyes before he gently kissed her.<p>

"What happened?" Horatio whispered.

She looked at him and sighed.

"Just before you got to the hospital, someone slipped something into my IV," Marisol quietly explained. "They said it would put me back to sleep just after you left. But I wasn't asleep. I could hear everything, feel everything, but I couldn't move. I couldn't open my eyes to look at you one last time.

"After you and Eric finally left they came in and gave me another injection. I was able to move again and I asked them what they did. They said they were with the FBI and if I wanted to live I had to do everything they said and not ask questions. They sent me back to surgery, fixed me up again, altered my body, and then flew me to Quantico.

"They trained me to become an FBI Agent. They made me stronger, faster, and quick minded. I learned how to take out a man three times my size and I can run a mile in six minutes flat.

"Then two years later they flew me back to Miami. They told me I was some kind of new super solider, like Captain America or something. They said my job was to take out the Mala Noche. They taught me their weaknesses, their strengths, and how their business worked. They secretly inserted me amongst their members, to infiltrate them. I became the major part of their takedown, penetrating the Mala Noche's wall of protection and taking them out one by one.

"The FBI's taken out half of their gangs in just Florida alone. They want to make it National. They want to create more super agents. They want to shut the Mala Noche business down for good. They said with me as the head of the infiltration program the FBI could rid the country of the Mala Noche within the next ten years."

Horatio laid there and just stared into her deep brown eyes.

"You became an experiment for the FBI?" he finally whispered.

Marisol nodded her head. "I tried to get out, but they wouldn't let me leave. I threatened legal action, but they laughed in my face. They said I belonged to them now. They controlled my life."

"Do they still?" Horatio quietly asked her.

"I don't know," she whispered. "I want to say no, but they keep forcing me to do their dirty work. It's like I can't escape them."

Horatio slowly rolled on top of her and kissed her tenderly. His hands wandered across her naked body, following the contours of her body. He slid inside her and began tenderly thrusting.

"They don't control you right now," he whispered in her ear. "No one brought you here tonight."

Marisol gasped softly and pressed her body closer to his.

"No, I came on my own free will," she whispered in response.


	10. Chapter 9

Chapter Nine: How to be Alone

* * *

><p>"Caine, I have some bad news," Agent Thompson said as he walked into Horatio's cubical.<p>

"Alright, let's hear it," Horatio said, turning his chair so it faced Thompson.

"It seems you're right," Thompson began. "Someone's hacking into your files and altering evidence. The IT department's put a trace on your computer and someone within the building is ghosting their way into your system."

Horatio sighed. He rubbed his eyes with his left hand as he tried to decide what to say.

"I'm sorry to hear that," he quietly responded. "Thompson, you have to believe me when I say I have taken every precaution necessary to protect my reports and evidence. I've made multiple copies, locked them away." He hesitated for a moment, knowing what he said next could cost him his job and integrity. "I also made electronic back-up copies on my personal USB drive."

Thompson nodded his head. "I understand, and I want you to know in no way do we think you brought this upon the department. I also understand the copies on your personal USB, and I won't be reprimanding you for that. Under the current circumstances I think we can make an exception for your actions. You were trying to protect the evidence."

Horatio nodded his head and stood from his chair.

"So what do you want me to do?" he asked the other agent.

"Keep doing what you're doing," Thompson replied. "Export the evidence and crime scenes to Miami Dade and continue your work with their Lieutenant."

Horatio nodded his head once more.

"Will do," he quietly replied.

* * *

><p>Horatio crept along the charred walls of the building, Ryan following close behind him. They peered around every corner, weapons drawn and their senses on high alter.<p>

"You're sure about this, H?" Ryan quietly asked.

"Positive," Horatio whispered in response, "She's been doing this at every crime scene for almost four years."

Something dashed past them and Horatio and Ryan took off running. They passed Eric and Calleigh, and the CSIs were quick to follow. There was a loud clattering noise and the sounds of someone retching. They almost ran past the person, but Eric doubled back when something caught his eye.

"Miami Dade Police!" he yelled advancing towards the figure in the hooded sweatshirt that was doubled over vomiting. "Put your hands in the air and get down on your knees!"

Two slender hands slowly raised in the air. Then something caught Eric's action. Around her left index finger was a ring, but not just any ring. It was a ring that had belonged to his grandmother.

She slowly turned around and faced him. He stared at her for several seconds, unable to believe it was her standing before him.

"Mari," Eric whispered.

"I'm sorry, Eric," she whispered.

She kicked him in the stomach and he dropped to his knees. She ran past him and out through the open door. Shots fired all around her and the hood of her sweatshirt fell, revealing her face. She ducked into a forest green car and sped away once again.

Ryan groaned as he dropped his arms to his side.

"Great, she got away again," he grumbled.

Calleigh stood next to him stunned.

"Ryan, did you see who that was?" she quietly asked.

"No," Ryan replied confused, "Who was it?"

"It was Marisol," Eric said as he limped out of the building.

"But Marisol's dead," Ryan replied.

"I know, but it was her," Eric continued on. "I know my sister. That was her. She was wearing our grandmother's ring. Her hair's short now, but it was her. I know it was."

"But that's not possible," Ryan said. "How can it be Marisol?"

"Collect the vomit," Horatio quietly said as he slipped his gun back into its holster. "It'll tell you what you need to know."

He walked away and back to his CIA government vehicle. He sat in the driver's seat for several minutes before he was actually able to pull away.

* * *

><p>Natalia stared at the results as they slid from the printer. She picked it up and read over it again.<p>

"This can't be," she whispered. "This isn't possible."

Ryan sighed and shook his head as he read over her shoulder.

"I know it isn't," he quietly said, "but it is. People lie, but the evidence doesn't."

"But she's dead," Natalia continued to whisper. "How could we find biological evidence of her?"

"She's not dead. Eric and Calleigh both saw her, and I know Horatio knows something that he's not willing to share. What database spit her out?"

"The Federal Bureau of Investigation," Natalia read off the computer screen, "Seems she's some kind of super secret agent."

Ryan looked at the computer and shook his head.

"Or maybe not," he whispered, pulling out his phone.

* * *

><p>Horatio knocked on the door to her apartment. He had never been there before and didn't even know if the address listed in her file was really hers. She opened the door and smiled at him timidly.<p>

"I knew you would come back to me," she whispered. She stepped aside and let him in.

Horatio silently stepped into her apartment and just looked at her. She was wearing only a short, silky light blue robe. He could see how it clung to her slender frame, accentuating each curve.

"I was going to take a bath," she quietly said. "Would you care to join me?"

"I might," Horatio quietly said.

They sat together in her large bathtub. The water was hot and bubbles floated around them. She poured them each a glass of wine and they sipped it together.

"Why are you doing this?" Horatio quietly asked her.

"Because I love you," she responded.

"I mean, why are you blowing up people? Just because the FBI said you had to?"

"There's more to it, Horatio," Marisol whispered.

"Then tell me."

"I can't."

"Or you won't."

She looked deep into his eyes. She set her wine glass down and took his from him, setting it next to hers. She slid onto his lap and kissed him tenderly.

"I know you had things you couldn't tell me when we were dating," she whispered between kisses.

"Because I was a cop and had to keep the evidence confidential," Horatio responded.

"So you know there are things I can't tell you," Marisol quietly said.

"Yes, but I know you can tell me the truth."

"Well the truth is I still love you," Marisol whispered in his ear. "And I know you still care about me."

"Why would you think that?" Horatio inquired.

"Because you wouldn't be sitting here in my bath with me, drinking wine and making love if you didn't," she said.

"I thought you had to be in love to make love."

"You do, and we are," she whispered.

"How do you know I still love you?"

"Because I'm your wife, I know everything about you."

"Then why don't you know the truth?" Horatio whispered.

Marisol pulled back and looked deep into his eyes.

"What do you mean?" she whispered.

The bathroom door slowly opened. Marisol turned and looked at the large group of people standing inside her master bedroom.

"Marisol Delko Caine," Ryan said, stepping forward, "You're under arrest for the murder of twenty-seven people, along with the bombing of twelve Miami shipping warehouses and conspiracy to commit murder, per the Miami Dade Police Department."

"You're also under arrest for leaking and altering valuable information within the Central Intelligence Agency, tampering with open investigations," Agent Thompson said.

"Not to mention for impersonating a Federal Bureau of Investigation Special Agent," a man in a blue suit with a gold badge said as he stepped into the bathroom.

Several people pulled Marisol from the bathwater. She looked at Horatio with a pained expression.

"You tricked me," she whispered. "How could you?"

"You were a double agent and a murderer, Mari," Horatio said as he stood. He wrapped a towel around his waist and just looked at her.

She looked at him as small tears formed in her eyes.

"You bastard," she muttered as she was pulled into her bedroom.

Lisa handed her a set of clothes and Marisol pulled them onto her wet body. Ryan pulled her arms behind her back and cuffed them together. He began leading her from the room, but she stopped. She looked at Horatio, her bottom lip quivering.

"For what it's worth, I quit the FBI," she quietly said. "I haven't worked for them for three weeks."

Horatio stared at her, not sure whether to believe her or not.

"Everything I've done in the last month has been for me, not the FBI," she said. "I did it because I wanted to win this war, not because someone told me to."

Horatio continued to stare at her with a hard expression.

"Maybe you should have found another way," he whispered.

Ryan led her from the room, followed by Thompson and the FBI Agent. Horatio stood there and watched her leave. Lisa walked up and stood next to him.

"I knew you were having an affair," she whispered in an angry tone.

Horatio sighed and shook his head.

"You know, Lisa, I was," he said in a bitter tone. "But if you want to get technical Marisol was my wife, so _you're_ the other woman."

Lisa scoffed and stomped from the room, leaving Horatio feeling more alone then he had ever in his entire life.


	11. Chapter 10

Chapter Ten: How to have Your Heart Destroyed in Under Ten Seconds

* * *

><p>Horatio sat in the gallery of the courtroom. He had refused to testify in the charges against her. He claimed it was a conflict of interest, since she was still technically his wife, but he had other reasons.<p>

She stood before the Judge at the Defendant table, dressed in an outfit that the prison had to have supplied. He read off the jury's decision. She was guilty of every charge against her. There were so many, Horatio couldn't even keep track. He just knew she would be going to a federal prison for a very long time.

"Ms. Delko," the Judge said, using her maiden name, "I hope you now understand that what you've done was beyond criminal, it was immoral. Though you claim your victims were the real crooks, being members of the Mala Noche gang, they were still people. I hope that's what you think of every morning you wake up in your prison cell."

Marisol looked at him with her deep brown eyes.

"Yes your honor," she quietly said, "I will."

"Now, in the case of your current medical condition, I am willing to place you in the hospital ward of the Florida Women's Correctional Facility," the Judge continued on. "However, after your child is born you will be placed back in with the general public and your baby placed up for adoption."

"I understand, your honor," she nearly whispered.

"This court is adjourned."

The Judge banged his gavel against the desk before him. People quickly began scattering, vacating so the next trial could begin quickly.

Horatio sat there speechless. Had he really heard the Judge correctly?

* * *

><p>Marisol was set in front of the plexiglass booth. She picked up the phone and stared at him with dry eyes.<p>

"You came to visit me," she whispered into the receiver.

"Yeah, I did," Horatio responded. "I needed to ask you a question."

Marisol looked at him and then down at the table in front of her.

"Yes, I'm pregnant," she whispered. "Yes, you're the father."

Horatio sighed as he felt like a horse kicked him in the chest.

"Why didn't you tell me?" he whispered.

"I didn't think you would want anything to do with me. You've made it very clear that you don't love me anymore."

"What were you going to do? Disappear again?"

"I wasn't sure what I was going to do. I didn't want to tell you but I knew I needed to."

"It would have been nice if you had said something before your trial began," Horatio said in a bitter tone. "Kind of a surprise to learn you're going to be a father from the federal court judge."

"I'm sorry, Horatio," she whispered, tears forming in her eyes.

"Yeah, I've heard that line before," Horatio snidely said. He hung the received up and stood from his chair, walking away without even a glance back.


	12. Chapter 11

**Alas, here arrives the final chapter in this tale. I hope everyone enjoyed the story! It came out better then I hoped. The original version I wrote for class (which was minus Horatio and Marisol, in case anyone's wondering) was actually really different then this adaptation, but I was so glad when I was able to keep the basic plotline. It took awhile to figure out an ending, but I decided the ending of the original story would work. Plus I feel it's a little out of character for Horatio, but love does crazy things to people.**

**Peace Out! ~KC**

**Ps- For those of you who are avid readers of my Jessica/Ryan series, their hiatus will be ending the next time I update, which should be within the next week. The other story I want to post is super short, and also involves Jessica and Ryan…well sort of.**

* * *

><p>Chapter Eleven: How to Become a Fugitive in Three Easy Steps<p>

* * *

><p>Marisol rode in the Miami Dade County Prison van. She was the only passenger. She was on her way to the Florida State Women's Correctional Facility. It was three days after her trial, the trial where she had been convicted of twenty-seven different murders and other multiple felony charges.<p>

She stared out the window, wishing she could tell him one more time she loved him.

There was a loud booming noise and the van skidded to a stop.

"What the hell was that?" one of the correction officers in the front asked.

"Don't know," the other replied. "Kind of sounded like a spike strip."

"Why would there be one of those out here?"

"Not sure, I didn't hear anything on the radio about one being placed out here."

They climbed from the van. Marisol listened to their muffled voices as they walked around the van. She jumped when she heard a loud noise and stifled shouts. Then there was silence. Marisol sat there, fearing what would happen next.

The door to the van slid open and the bright sun flooded into the van. Marisol lifted her cuffed hands, shielding her eyes from the sun.

"Let me see your hands," a man's voice said.

She held out her hands. The cuffs clicked and fell from her wrists. The shackles around her ankles and waist clicked and clattered to the floor of the van. Someone held her hand as they helped her out. The sun continued to blind her as the man before her handed her a set of clothes and a pair of flats. He walked away as she changed from her prison uniform. She watched as he heaved the unconscious correction officers into the cab of the van. He walked back to her once she had changed and threw a spike strip onto the seat.

She looked at him, dressed in dark wash jeans, a black t-shirt, black leather jacket, black flat hat, and his signature sunglasses.

"Horatio," she whispered.

He silenced her with a passionate kiss, holding her close.

"I realized you're right," he whispered. "I do still love you."

Marisol smiled as he kissed her again. He pulled back and held her hand, pulling her towards a silver convertible Corvette with the top down. Her light sundress fluttered in the breeze as she climbed in.

"Where are we going?" she asked as he started the car.

"Paris," Horatio answered as he put the car into gear and pulled out onto the road.

"Why Paris?" she asked.

"We never did get that honeymoon we wanted," Horatio said, handing her a pair of sunglasses and a large flopping sunhat.

"But I thought you agreed we wanted to honeymoon in the country," she said as she placed the hat on her head, adjusting it slightly.

"True, but the statue of limitations says that you can only be placed in custody if you're on American soil." He smiled at her as he held out a black velvet ring box. He opened it to reveal a beautiful diamond and gold ring. "And Paris is anything but American."

Marisol smiled brightly as she held out her left hand and Horatio slipped the ring onto her finger.

"But you don't know French, and I certainly don't," she said, admiring the ring's beauty.

"Quite alright, we can learn," Horatio said with a satisfied grin. The light danced off the gold and diamond ring on his left hand as he turned a corner. "No better time to learn then when you're a fugitive."

"You'll be a fugitive now, too," she quietly said. "You're aiding me in my escape."

"I know," Horatio said with a smile as he sped down the street. "But I would rather run from the law with the woman I love and my child, then sit around feeling sorry for myself that you're gone again."

"So you really love me?" she whispered.

The Corvette stopped at a red light. Horatio leaned across the seat and kissed her.

"I love you more then anything, Marisol," he whispered.

"Do you love me enough to leave America and become a fugitive in a foreign country?" she asked between kisses.

The car behind them honked loudly as the light turned green. Horatio hit the gas hard and weaved through traffic.

"If I didn't, would I be doing this right now?" he asked her.

Marisol giggled and held onto her hat when it almost flew off her head.

"I guess that's true," she said with a bright smile. "What about your job and all your personal belongings?"

"Quit the CIA and left all my belongings for my friends," Horatio answered. "I took what was the most important and emptied my bank account. I presume we can figure it out when we get there."

"But do you have enough for us to get started?" Marisol quietly asked, obviously worried.

Horatio looked at her with a mischievous grin.

"I never called the insurance company and told them you were really alive," he said. "I would have had to prove you were alive, which would have revealed who you were. I couldn't bring myself to do it."

"So we're going to live off my life insurance money?"

"Absolutely," Horatio said with a smug expression. "Besides, the American dollar is worth more then the French currency right now. I think we can make it work if we're modest."

"Something you've always been good at," Marisol said with a laugh as the Corvette sped out of the city. "Where are we leaving from?"

"Jacksonville," Horatio answered. "Miami International would be too obvious. Might buy us a little time, if we hurry."

Marisol laughed again and leaned over and kissed his cheek.

"I love you, Horatio Caine," she said with a bright smile.

Horatio returned it with a beaming one of his own. For the first time in almost five years he felt truly happy.

"I love you, too, Marisol Delko Caine," he said as he pushed the accelerator down and the Corvette flew down the open road. "And I've always loved you."

"So now you're going to become what you've always fought against," Marisol said.

"I'd rather live a life of crime with you and our child then live any other life without you," Horatio said as the Corvette ripped across the pavement in the light of the bright Florida sun.


End file.
